Where the fireflies won't go
by Crazy4Moony
Summary: "Ever since you said it happened when you were five I couldn't get this image out of my head," Sirius says very solemnly – then, he makes exasperated hand-movements that Remus follows from the corner of his eye, "Baby moon stroll man turns into an over-excited puppy but there's no fur, just a lot more of your auburn fluff hair. I had a dream, it was awesome."
1. Chapter 1

**Where the fireflies won't go**

1

He's eleven years old and mapping out the part of the castle closest near to the astronomy tower with Sirius Black – it's not awkward, because it's hasn't been a full moon recently and the next one is far enough away for there to be no unpleasant personality changes showing.

Sirius's hair is constantly falling into his face and he's holding his wand between his teeth whilst scribbling onto a piece of parchment. They're crouched between the solid brick wall and a big troll statue, and it's dead of winter but Remus isn't cold. The sound of Sirius's feather against yellow parchment is the only sound in the empty hallways – Remus points to one of the sidewalls that's been drawn unusually poorly and crookedly and then turns back to peer between the legs of the troll. He's on look-out and he takes his appointed job very seriously.

"Remmi," it's all Sirius says, but it's also all he needs to say because they don't really need words at this stage in their relationship – it's been one year of hiding in dark hallways and evading Filch and weird hand movements Sirius swears is actual sign-language and by now Remus can basically hear Sirius's thoughts as loud and clear as his own.

He brings back his wand to give the raven more light, and there's a thank you somewhere stuck in Sirius's throat. It takes another five minutes for Sirius to finish mapping the fake wall and hidden tunnel they had just explored, and then the other boy flopped down onto his arse rather ungracefully, whopping in barely-concealed excitement.

Sirius has turned thirteen just the month before and actually Remus has not spent any alone time with him since mere hours before his party, where they had spent two hours together running off into the Forbidden forest – the stars had been really bright and Remus had laughed as Sirius howled at canis majoris which they had just been mapping in class the day before.

Now, Sirius is beaming as he hands over the parchment, ready to have his handiwork double-checked by his friend. There's a shadow in his eyes and Remus thinks it's just the lights playing tricks on him, but then he never really knows with Sirius – and he expects that it's half not-knowing that makes Sirius such a great companion.

That and he makes _really_ stupid jokes which are ridiculously funny.

Remus folds the parchment over his knees and draws his wand over it – Sirius's lines are, much like he himself, a little sloppy and his handwriting is near illegible, but Remus had become somewhat of a professional at deciphering it.

He sets to double-checking the positions of the walls as Sirius summons a small fire with his own wand, warming his hands to it. In the orange light of the summoned embers Sirius's cheeks and nose are pink against his amber skin, and Remus realises with a start that the boy was colder than he had thought.

"I really like astronomy," Sirius says quietly – but only because it's the middle of the night and they're out after curfew and he knows Remus will give him a stern talking-to if his chatter gets them caught.

Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes because he's probably heard the entire array of Sirius-star related jokes _multiple times_ but then again just even the idea that Sirius would seriously repeat the same lame jokes to his friends itself is kind of endearing.

"Yeah, because of the Sirius star, _I know_ ," he says it in a slightly exasperated tone as if he is sick of hearing the story – which in all honesty, he's not, really.

Sirius is undisturbed – he's tracing a crack in the wall with his fingers, and Remus notes that his nails are dirty with black ink.

"What about you?" Sirius hums, and he pokes very decisively at a dip in the stone, "did you notice an increase in your interest in all things moon-related since becoming a werewolf?"

Remus doesn't really hear him at first because he is getting fussy over the absolutely _awful_ job he is doing at calculating the distance between the very statue they are huddled up behind and the wall they are facing – Sirius has gone all artistic on him and has drawn a very accurate eagle-eye view of the troll but the problem is that there is no space between said troll and the wall for two teenagers to hide yet here they are so that _couldn't be right_.

The scratching of the quill is the only sound in the hallway for a moment and then it stops rather abruptly when Remus processes the fact that Sirius _knows_.

He is suddenly very aware of all the blood running through his veins and for a moment it's all he can hear, an odd sort of _rushing sound_ very loud in his head, and he worries that maybe he's having a panic attack – the raven next to him however is the poster boy for relaxation and he's pursing his lips and blowing at the little fire he's created, watching the flames flicker.

Then Remus feels mostly just annoyed, because Sirius _would_ find out about this really deep dark crippling secret people have been carrying with them almost all their life and then he _would_ bring it up like it was nothing more than some light chatter, really, _he would_ and that was more maddening than the whole entire ordeal in itself was.

Two can play that game, Remus decides, and then makes a show out of sighing exasperatedly and scratching out something on the parchment. He says, voice warm like the fire Sirius is playing with, "well I _did_ become really good at drawing moon charts," he uses his forearm to wipe the hair from his face as both hands are occupied, and then adds as an afterthought, "anyway I was five so I guess I was gonna get better at that no matter what."

Sirius drums his fingers against the wall. Remus is looking at his knees and he doesn't want to look up, because sometimes when Sirius is unguarded and free his eyes are like moonlit nights' oceans and it's dangerous because Remus has never really been a good swimmer.

"Oh," Sirius nods in understanding – he shifts around, pulls up his legs to his chest, and then, quietly, "I'd say I'm sorry but… you know."

"You're not," Remus doesn't need him to say it out loud because he already knows. He finally relents under the pressure and drops his hands down the side of his body, leaning his chin on his knees. He glances at Sirius from the corner of his eyes, just because he can, and notes that he's gone back to poking at the unmoveable brick wall as if it is key lime Jell-O – _honestly_ , "I guess that if I _really_ have to share this most furriest of secrets with anyone, I'm cool with it being you," which isn't a _total lie_ , "Not too cool, because you know, Peter is really good at keeping his mouth shut, but I guess it's better than James."

The raven looks rather affronted at that, huffing, insulted – but then, he crinkles his nose and concedes, "fair enough," and next, "but, you know…" and then he turns towards his younger friend and draws his fingers over his mouth and pretends to lock his lips together at the end – making a clicking noise with his tongue because if Sirius's mouth _was_ an actual door that could be locked it _would be_ old and rusty and making weird noises from _never having been locked before_ – the sounds echoes eerily in the silent hallway.

Just like that everything has been said – or _hasn't been_ said – and Sirius bumps his shoulder into his side to hurry him along. A couple of minutes later Remus rolls up the scroll of parchment and puts the quill and ink away in his robe – Sirius's cheeks are still red.

On their way back to the tower Sirius slings his arm around Remus' shoulder and puts his nose against his cheek as he tells a really ridiculous joke in hushed whispers and it's kind of cold where Sirius is touching him, but very warm too.


	2. Chapter 2

2

 **AN: BTW, my Sirius is based off Willy Cartier (lookwise) because when I first read the books I used to see Sirius as very pale but seeing some fanart etc made me see him more as poc, and I saw this Sirius aesthetic that used Willy Cartier and it was just bomb.**

 **Also I forgot to mention it in the first chapter but I struggled with their ages A LOT because I'm bad at math but I'm sure I got them right!**

It's a couple of weeks later and madam Pomfrey is helping him to the infirmary when she stops still in her tracks. Remus is leaning into her heavily as his own legs can barely carry him and he's nodding off into unconsciousness because consciousness _hurts_.

"Mister Black?"

There is a figure slumped against the closed infirmary doors, and madam Pomfrey lightly bumps it with her feet for lack of any hands free – Remus should probably care, but he doesn't really.

The figure jumps to its feet as if it's not ungodly early and it's Sirius Black – he's in his pyjamas, reindeer-patterned trousers and a particularly ugly yellow jumper. He's whipping at his hair because it's all messed up and in his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I know you usually don't—" Madam Pomfrey just kind of waves her hand at him and she lets him pull open the heavy set mahogany doors.

Remus is kind of nodding off all through her fussing and she puts murtlap juice on his wounds but his whole body just kind of _aches_ and he wants to _sleep_. He is vaguely aware of Sirius pushing up a chair next to the bed but to be honest there's these bright little lights playing behind his eyelids and you would think that's fun but it feels like he's burning from the inside out.

Pomfrey makes him sit up to drink a sleeping potion and he grimaces as his body is forced to move – it's kind of weird because it appears that Sirius is tucked up in a chair next to his bed and is kind of awkwardly trying to reach over to take Remus's hand. Remus is really not feeling this whole idea of moving his arm but Sirius looks kind of confused with a little frown on his face so Remus gives in and allows the other boy to squeeze his hand as he swallows the potion.

"You're really gonna have to explain moon charts to me," Sirius says, and then kind of tips his head against the back of his chair, "thought it wasn't until next week."

It's really kind of unfair because less than ten seconds later Sirius is already dozing off. He's kind of snoring too.

Remus knows he should probably be annoyed, but Sirius' hand is actually really comfortable in his own and the sleeping potion is super effective and that's that.

When he wakes up his body is not burning anymore, but he still feels pretty damn awful. He blinks a couple of times just to make sure he's not hallucinating because Sirius is still in the same chair besides his bed, long legs slung over the side of it and reading a magazine – or pretending to read a magazine, because Remus can see him staring over the brim of it.

From the looks of it, it's already noon, yet Sirius appears not to have moved – he's still wearing that hideous yellow sweater.

There's a lot of _emotion_ , stuck in Remus' throat, and he tries not to think about it too much but he can't help it because _this is just a very nice thing to do for someone_ , he thinks, and it thumps in his head and in his heart, too. He swallows this _thing_ away but then he's pretty sure his spine is being stabbed in multiple places at once as he tries to turn on his side to properly face Sirius – so he's really grateful and everything, but his friend is just going to have to bear with him as he professes his thanks to the ceiling.

He opens his mouth but Sirius beats him to it, grinning: "let us not go on a tirade of how uncharacteristically friendly this is and how nice this makes me because there's no way in fuck that I'm going to skip hand in hand with Snivellus any time soon and I'm pretty sure I'm still 99 percent a total a-hole."

Now that isn't really fair, Remus thinks, because sure, Sirius is a total tosser to most people and he's a total twat to all Slytherins but he's not _really_ an a-hole because sometimes he makes Remus toast with that marmalade he really likes and when Remus's hair is not being atrocious Sirius tells him and sometimes in summer Sirius brings him lemonade while he's studying outside and when Remus falls asleep during one of Binn's classes Sirius takes notes for him – horrible almost illegible notes, but _notes_. And all of these things are _not_ things a-holes do, but then again the idea of Sirius and Severus holding hands _and skipping_ is a little disturbing so there's no real coherent thought for Remus to voice.

"Yes well," Remus eventually concedes – there is a pattern in the wood of the ceiling that he's never noticed before, kind of round like cookies, "Peter would've probably forgotten altogether."

"And he wouldn't have got you this," the raven lowers his magazine to reveal a pile of chocolate frogs which he'd been hiding in his lap – some of them have Christmas wrappers oddly similar to the reindeers on Sirius' pyjama pants, "though _technically_ he did as they're from his secret stash," Sirius makes sure to accentuate the "secret" with air quotes, both hands up in the air.

There's a thank you stuck this time, he's sure that of all the emotions in his throat _gratitude_ is the one he wants to voice towards Sirius – because _chocolate_. But then he has those eyes on him, no moonlit seas this time but a cloudy sky and he knows better.

"That's a horrible sweater," he says instead, and lets Sirius break off a leg quite savagely and then feed it to his mouth so he himself has to do minimum effort.

"Is that so?" Sirius' lips are chapped and they go up in a smirk as he watches Remus drool, sloppily trying to devour the chocolate _faster_ so he can get _more_ , "You should know, it's yours."

For a moment Remus believes him, too, but then he remembers he hasn't owned anything the colour of mustard since too much of the good stuff had gotten him stuck on the toilet for two days when he was nine, and just like that they're both grinning.

"So mister moon stroll man on a scale from one to ten how much pup-appeal were you jazzing with last night?" Sirius breaks off the head of the next frog with a bit of an eyebrow wriggle thrown in Remus's general direction – he's still staring at the ceiling but he just _feels_ the insufferableness of his friend's grin all the way over from the bed.

" _Pup_ -appeal?" he groans – like yesterday wasn't so unbearable after all, and he'd much rather go back to before Sirius was here than have to deal with all this ridiculousness, which is only like one part truth and six parts lie.

"Ever since you said it happened when you were five I couldn't get this image out of my head," Sirius says very solemnly – then, he makes exasperated hand-movements that Remus follows from the corner of his eye, "Baby moon stroll man turns into an over-excited puppy but there's no fur, _just a lot more of your auburn fluff hair_. I had a dream, it was awesome."

Remus wants to die of mortification; Sirius was having dreams of him as a _puppy_ and that was so far from the truth it wasn't even funny – or at least, only _a little_ funny.

" _Sirius_ ," he whines – because he's _in pain_ and Sirius is kind of insufferable, "I turn into a deadly mauling monster!"

"When you were _five_?" Sirius raises both eyebrows sceptically, and then breaks another frog in pieces, this time eating half of it himself.

Remus glares at the ceiling. He wants to huff and fold his arms in front of his chest but he's _aching_ so he just settles for staring witheringly at the cookie-shaped pattern and hopes Sirius feels his seriousness.

"My father could tell you stories," he says in a tone that he hopes sounds a little threatening.

Sirius though, gives him an entirely unimpressed look and stuffs some chocolate in the brunette's mouth as he retaliates, "you don't scare me moon-man."

In all seriousness Remus wants to _not_ find this funny because this is his _life_ they're talking about but then again, it really is very funny so he just continues to almost choke on the chocolate as he bursts out laughing.

Sirius, in turn, gives him more chocolate and sits with him for the rest of the day – by the time Remus is feeling good enough to feed himself chocolate they've already eaten through half the stash, and his stomach is bloated and his whole mouth _feels_ like chocolate but when Sirius smiles at him his teeth are brown and he thinks _maybe this is what happiness is_.

 **AN: YAAAY! HE FEELS HAPPINESS. Also yes moon-man because Sirius would be inventive like that –cough-**


	3. Chapter 3

3

He's twelve and it's been months of Sirius keeping him company every full moon when he wakes up in the infirmary one morning and there's no one – the chair Sirius would usually use is pushed up next to the bed and there's some chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties and a note. Remus is _tired_ and his skin is crawling, but he's been much worse, so he grits his teeth and reaches over to take the note.

 _Potions! Will take notes if you eat ALL the chocolate!_ It says in Sirius's unruly scrawl – it's signed with a little star, too, and Remus thinks it's beyond adorable but then squashes the thought. There is _nothing_ about Sirius Orion Black that should be qualified as _adorable_.

Madam Pomfrey checks up on him and he's feeling kind of okay – stuffed with chocolate and he's pretty sure he'll never get over the feeling of his _spine expanding grossly_ but he's been much worse – and he convinces her to let him go after she's double-checked his injuries. All that's left is a really deep-set _tenseness_ in his whole body and a tremendous headache.

It's already past noon now, as he makes his way to the tower – he tries not to make eye-contact with anyone or look generally too out of it as to not raise suspicion and he wants to thank any muggle gods up there when he reaches the dorm without too much of a fuss.

He falls face-first into his bed and just kind of lies there for a moment, and he hopes that if he just lies there long enough he will sink down into the mattress and it will encase him and heal him and… maybe he's had too much chocolate.

There's a stumble in the bathroom and then, "you're back early. Take off your clothes," which are words he _never_ imagined he'd _ever_ hear because he's not that handsome really and who would ever want to see him naked?

Sirius, apparently.

He can just muster up the strength to turn his head to face Sirius and then glare in what he hopes is the most withering glare he has ever glared. Sirius seems unimpressed – his hair is nicely combed for once, and he's already taken off his Gryffindor tie, his white shirt lose and sleeves pushed up over his tan elbows. He's rolling his eyes, hands set on his hips, and Remus thinks of how it's not fair at all, how composed Sirius can be, when he himself is falling apart at the seams.

"Not like that," Sirius reprimands, "I told Slughorn I took a bludger to the side and my whole body was hurtin'," Sirius manhandles Remus into a sitting position and Remus feels like a sack of potatoes and refuses co-operation – Sirius is grunting and pulling at him and eventually gets him standing. Their eyes meet, and Sirius says very solemnly, "he made me stay after class and made me brew this _all on my own_ so the least you could do is try it you big baby moon man."

Remus wants to throw a tantrum – he has just had a horrible night and if Sirius could just respect that and _not_ roughhouse him, that would be great.

Except Sirius does not appear to be in a very compassionate mood, as he instead forcibly moves Remus to the bathroom.

The water is neon green.

Remus says so.

"Why is the water green?" he says pointedly.

Sirius shrugs, helping Remus sit down on the toilet-seat so that he can feel the temperature of the water. He doesn't answer, which isn't very comforting, and then thinking about how unfocused Sirius usually is while brewing potions isn't helping much either and he really wants to _not_ take a bath in this mysterious green concoction but Sirius is looking at him with this very unreadable look and sighs very deeply as if he's been dealing with nothing but idiots his whole life but he's finally met the one, the only, ultimate idiot. From the way he's looking at him, it's Remus.

"I willingly _spent two extra hours in potions_ and you're bitching about _the colour_?" Sirius says this very stingily and his hands are on his hips again – kind of like an exasperated mother, though Remus figures it best not to point this out.

Sirius helps him take off his shirt and it's all remarkably gentle, the way Sirius tries not to strain him. He leaves him alone after that and Remus undresses himself very slowly – it's not that he's hurting so much as that he's just never enjoyed seeing his own naked skin.

As a child his family didn't have enough money to afford extensive medical care and expensive potions and monthly healers tending for him, so a lot of the damage he did to his own skin had left ample scarring from wounds that had not properly healed. It is hideous to look at and a constant reminder of what he was and why he would never be normal.

He tries to ignore the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach instead of lingering upon it.

To his surprise the water feels _like magic_ and as he soaks his body it's like his whole entire _life_ is mellowing out, softening around the edges and not so fragile as they once were – and every stroke against his own skin feels like redemption as the tension drains from him.

He's not sure how long he stays there in the tub but he feels pretty boneless by the end of it and that feels infinitely better than having all the bones _torturing_ him.

Sirius pops his head around the door when he hears Remus bustling about, theatrically shunning his eyes with one hand as he gives Remus a set of clean pyjamas. Upon unfolding them Remus notices immediately that these are not his own – they are in a beautifully red colour and incredibly soft to the touch, smooth like silk.

"Sirius…" he starts, a little breathless because his fingertips are aching to feel the fabric again, _it's better than petting kittens._

"I'm a spoiled rich kid with a too big allowance. Besides, Cissy said they're the best and apparently there's Phoenix feather in there somewhere. So let's see this as an early birthday present and never talk about it again," he waves his free hand in front of his face as if merely whisking the matter away like that – it's stupid, Remus is sure, because not only has the raven gone to the trouble of buying him pyjamas, he's _also_ asked his cousin for her opinion upon the matter which is just _odd_.

"It was my birthday two months ago," Remus says – because he doesn't have anything else to say, and he really wants to resist but then he's already sliding his arm into the sleeve.

"So I'm _real early_ for next year," Sirius does the hand thing again and Remus would be annoyed except that his whole body feels like it's encased in warm fluff, "Cissy says the fabric is great for sensitive skins."

And it is, Remus thinks, because there's welts on his back that have healed really nastily which makes the skin there really sensitive to the touch but this pyjama is cool like water and not prickly or annoying but soothing and warm at the same time.

"So," Sirius peeks through his fingers carefully, just as Remus finishes pulling up his pants, "are you ready to tell me a horror story?"

They move back into the dorm, where Remus thankfully flops down onto his bed – crawling under his blankets and having a good mind of never coming out again. He hides his head under a pillow and feels the bed dip where Sirius is getting comfy by his feet – it's noon but it feels like they're getting ready for bed.

"Where are James and Pete?" Remus murmurs into his pillow – Sirius answers by flinging himself rather ungracefully down next to the brunette.

He tugs at the pillow Remus is hiding in, smirking broad and proud.

"I told them Evans and McKinnon are having a fight in the courtyard," his canines glitter, "you know how they get."

Remus doesn't want to giggle but he does anyway, and Sirius is grinning at him so he just kind of gives into the feeling, "I was catching fireflies," is what he says.

"Fireflies huh?" is all Sirius answers.

"I used to really like them too, you know. And it had been a real sunny day, warm and humid and those are the best nights for hunting fireflies, aren't they?" Remus thinks maybe Sirius' eyes have fireflies in them, too, "And it's kind of ironic because my mom called me back into the house five minutes earlier but I just wanted to spend some more time with them, and when I think about it now, it's so silly, if only I'd listened…"

Sirius is listening to his story with wide eyes, his legs up in the air swinging like the seven-year-old he still is – he's curling his hair in his fingers and as Remus pauses he pouts slightly.

"I'm sorry you will forever link this small action of rebellion to such traumatic events," he says very solemnly, making Remus grin.

"I'm more sorry about the fireflies," Remus answers dryly, and then they're both smiling so broad their cheeks hurt.

 **AN: small update because I wanted to update so I figured why not?! If you read it and liked it, please leave a review!**


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